


Coexisting With My Villains (And Flirt With One)

by Mezhlauk



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Creepy Eobard Thawne | Harrison Wells, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 09:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27848706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mezhlauk/pseuds/Mezhlauk
Summary: After the explosion of the particle accelerator, Barry Allen fell into a nine months coma, only to wake up without a job, his love to be married to another man, and a load of debt due to the hospital's cost. A not ideal situation that forces him to desperately try to get a new job in the criminal infested bar, Saints and Sinners, as a bartender, cue to some awkward moments as the new hero Flash who has to aid his enemies, and is Leonard Snart flirting with him?
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Comments: 25
Kudos: 75
Collections: Coldflash Bang 2020





	Coexisting With My Villains (And Flirt With One)

**Author's Note:**

> To all the teachers that thought quarantine meant attacking their students with homework, I wish you hell. Four orals! FOUR! I'm not even counting the tests! F
> 
> https://sparroet.tumblr.com/post/636959411295895552/my-part-in-the-coldflash-big-bang-this-is-for  
> The beautiful art for this fic, made by Sparroet ! <3
> 
> I'll also thank Cass-Caelis, and Noreasonatall! Who were a BIG help! x)

Barry looked with apprehension at the sign of the bar, the 'SAINTS' flickering while the 'SINNERS' shined wide and bright. He couldn't believe he had to resort to this, but here he was, forced to tolerate the ones he had once worked day and night to put behind bars. The thought alone put a sour taste in his mouth and made his hands shake. 

He stared at the bare, run-down building, which lacked any decoration, any joy, as if the owner had put in the bare minimum and left it at that. The walls were damaged, the paint cracking more in some places than others. He was glad that they’d made him come in at the start of the afternoon because anyone could tell that the atmosphere of the building would change drastically when darkness settled. 

Barry was abnormally early, even for the average person, thanks to all the free time he had now. After the walk over, he knew not to wander too far or too carelessly in this neighborhood, so he paced around the small parking lot instead. He knew he was delaying the inevitable, but he couldn't bring himself to enter, instead letting himself scowl at everything and overthinking his poor situation.

Why, just why, did Singh have to fire him? It wasn't like it was his fault he was in a coma! This is besides the fact that at the first accident, they fired him. He had graduated early from both high school and college, and they threw him away like that? Joe told him to stay positive, that he could be brought back, but after seeing the haughty look the new CSI, Albert, threw at him, Barry wasn't sure he would even want to. Barry tried not to think about his father, whom he wouldn't be able to help now that he lost his job, and he tried to stop himself from spiraling in rage, but he couldn’t help it. To think Singh had dared to look Barry in the eyes and tell him time and time again how indispensable he was, and yet there he was! All these years, all this work, and no matter what he did, they never believed him, always belittled him for it, even, and now everything had been in vain. Being around Joe reminded him of that and brought back the helpless bitterness he’d felt most strongly in the years after his mother’s death. Barry wasn't the type to let himself be upset or wallow in self-pity, but the situation made it easy, appropriate, even. He couldn't look at Joe without grinding his teeth, which made getting a job essential, because going back to living with Joe and Iris was a recipe for disaster.

Especially since he saw Iris, the supposed love of his life, his rock, his anchor, in the arms of another. He knew, logically, that he didn't have any right to feel betrayed, but he did. He felt raw, and worst of all, powerless. Barry lost everything, his life smashed to smithereens, and he couldn't do anything about it, as if the Man in Yellow had struck again. He couldn't believe he had lost his chance to declare his love. It seemed like he'd lost his only purpose. His dream of marrying Iris, with his father a free man alongside him, was gone. All Barry would be able to do now was watch her walk down the aisle to Detective Thawne, with Barry alone, on the side, as he always had been to her.

Knowing that if he kept thinking that way he'd just grow more angry and vindictive, Barry stepped into the bar, welcoming the movement as part of the wave of change in his life recently. He knew he had to stop fidgeting, stop radiating so much nervous energy and try to appear confident. Anything to tamp down on the image of an easily-crushed prey he knew he projected, for that would not help him navigate the sea of criminals he would be dealing with everyday. He knew he had to maintain a balance between 'could gut you' and 'harmless fly’; he had to blend into the background, which, thanks to Tony Woodward and Barry's numerous other childhood bullies, Barry had plenty of practice with.

With a firm step and quick feet, Barry walked over to the counter and leaned near the corner of it while he took a long look around the room. His eyes wandered over to where two clearly intoxicated men argued across one of the pool tables. Their gravelly voices soon rose above the background music—“Jolene” from the jukebox—as the tension grew between them. Not wanting to attract attention, he scanned the tables, empty at such an hour, then the bar, inhabited solely by regulars or drunks. The vibe was somewhat homely, warm, as if the bar welcomed patrons as neutral strangers entering a safe lair or a welfare hideout. Barry's nerves started to settle down, and his gaze turned to the details of the room: the stylized walls, worn flooring, vintage tables, Cocktails sign, and the light that the jukebox reflected onto the nearby furniture.

“What can I get for you?” The voice broke through his haze, and he turned to answer the bartender, a woman with ebony skin and long, curly, black hair. 

“Actually, my name is Barry Allen. I'm the new barman.” He smiled at her. She nodded and called behind her for someone named Daniel. As they waited, Barry automatically scanned the bartender's appearance. She was about... 5'6", but had a confident posture that made her look taller. Her large, brown eyes were circled with a honey-like blend of yellow and orange that reminded Barry of the hair of his mother when it reflected the sun’s light. Instinctively, he felt like he could trust her, her friendly exterior putting him at ease in a potentially hostile environment.

When a man stepped out of the back and took her place at the bar, she turned to Barry and told him to follow her as she walked toward the back.

“It's a pleasure to meet you!” she said with a smile. “We desperately needed help since Debby had to quit. I'm Aliyah Blair, and that's Daniel,” she said, nodding to the man behind the bar. "We're just bartenders. The owner's Sandra. You should have met her already, right?”

“Yeah, at the interview. She reminds me of my last boss — hard but attentive, you know?” Even if he parted ways with Singh on sour terms, he shouldn't forget all the transgressions Singh let him get away with. He at least owed him that for putting up with his chronic tardiness all those years.

“Pretty much. You always have to watch what you’re doing, though!” She said, and they giggled. “I'm going to explain all the basics for now, and you call for help if you need it, okay?” He nodded, and Aliyah showed him around as she explained the schedule, policies, and storage set up, and then demonstrated how to make a few drinks. It was all simple enough. Barry sometimes had to mix drinks for investigations, and he'd learn the rest as he went.

Although he could be clumsy sometimes, he felt confident. Ever since he had woken up from his coma, he felt more coordinated than he ever had before. The more he thought about it, the odder it seemed. Who wakes up from a coma feeling better than they did before it? 

He was well aware that he tended to be an optimist. Most people thought his imagination operated outside of reality, but he couldn't ignore his gut feeling about this. He had studied unexplainable cases for years, and while none of those cases started this way, there were similarities to Barry's situation. It couldn't be magic, that's for sure. Science, though? Maybe.

Whatever it was, it wasn't a coincidence. This had something to do with his coma and what put him into it: the particle accelerator.

Aliyah chose to talk then. “So, tell me more about yourself! We’ll have to see each other quite a lot now.” She smiled gently, as if sensing his reluctance. “Why here? It’s uncommon, to say the least!”

“I had some problems after the explosion, hospital and such, so I got short on money after losing my job, basically,” he answered sheepishly. “There wasn’t much choice after the rough months everyone had.”

“Yeah, STAR Labs sure fucked everything up,” she said bitterly. “Anyway, lucky for us, we got a great new bartender out if it, at least!” she joked. “All right, you can finish the day with me and then jump into work tomorrow.”

The rest of the day flew by as he shadowed Aliyah and followed her instructions. Time passed faster than ever, no longer punctuated by interactions with his friends and Iris. He was quite morose, his attention elsewhere.

He mechanically finished his shifts, not thinking much of his break, and took off after saying his goodbyes to his new coworkers.

But as he opened the door, it happened again—his arm trembled. He couldn't even begin to understand what was happening to him, but when he lowered his gaze, he saw the unexplainable. His arm was... vibrating? How was that possible?

Grabbing his arm did nothing. “What the hell!” He whispered-shouted, stricken with panic. “What’s happening to me?” Holding his vibrating— _vibrating_ —arm close to himself, he ran out the door and didn’t stop until he reached his apartment. 

His run home felt… supernaturally fast. He knew he wasn’t hallucinating, so he had to trust his senses. Looking at his watch confirmed: it took him only two or three minutes to get home. That shouldn’t be possible. Nothing made sense. Just what _was_ he?

* * *

The next day, he skipped lunch and headed to STAR Labs during his break

He found Harrison Wells outside the building near the entrance. "You left in a hurry last week." Dr. Wells’s tone, while not exactly accusing, more bad-tempered than anything, left a sour expression on Barry’s face. Should he be regretting taking them up on their offer? After all, he’d only heard bad things about STAR Labs since he woke up. Even after the little speech Dr. Wells had given Barry when he woke—after further reflections, he wasn’t exactly convinced. Perhaps in another life it would have worked, but in this one, especially since he woke up, Barry wasn’t impressed by the masquerade.

Nevertheless, he owed them a lot. "I know, and I'm sorry, but know that I'm grateful for everything you've done for me during my coma. I had to see my—my family, right?" He took a shaky breath. "You get that?"

"Not anymore.” Wells’s voice seemed frigid. “I've lost a lot of things"—they both looked down to his legs—"but nothing can compare to the loss of my wife…" His voice seemed void of emotion, and while Barry knew everyone grieved in their own way, he couldn't help but feel uneasy.

There was an unpleasant silence. Feeling deeply uncomfortable, Barry tried to change the subject, “So, anyway, um— I came to ask—” and stopped himself when Dr. Wells lifted his right hand.

“Mr. Allen, we can have this conversation inside; there’s no need to stay in this freezing weather,” he said, more amiable. 

“Well— Yeah, of course!” Barry laughed awkwardly while scratching the back of his head as they made their way inside. He was greeted by the two scientists, and he smiled at them gratefully. Caitlin never seemed to let him out of her sight. He didn’t know what he looked like that instant, but he supposed, considering her wide eyes, he must have looked like utter shit. 

“Hey, man! You remember us, right?” Cisco grinned. “We spent so long watching you sleep that now it feels lonely here!” he finished with a laugh, before coughing abruptly, Caitlin glaring violently at him. 

“Have you had any problems? Medically?” she asked agreeably, giving him an opening to talk freely. He nodded, thankful.

“I—I…” He breathed one time to settle his nerves and continued steadily. “I didn’t come for nothing.” He felt his hands tremble from the stress. “There’s something wrong with me— with my body…” He held out his vibrating arms and heard Cisco and Caitlin gasp. Barry looked at Wells expectantly. “Is there a way to explain that?”

* * *

After leaving STAR Labs, Barry didn’t feel any better about his situation. They didn’t seem to know anything that could have helped him in any way. It was probably foolish, but he had hoped Dr. Wells would have a clear and precise answer. Reality proved to be more difficult. He scowled for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

Barry felt a bit more at ease in the bar by now, once he’d learned that criminals didn’t pay much attention to the bartenders. They tended to themselves and fought way less than he had imagined, he had to give them that at least, because otherwise, it wasn’t at all silent in the bar. 

It also helped that he was used to going to visit his dad in Iron Heights. He was trying not to think too much of his father until he could find a new way to help. He knew he should visit, but since he first went, right after his coma, he’d learned that he had lost his job, and he was too ashamed to see his dad now. Regardless, an entire adolescence of prison visits meant that he felt fairly comfortable among this crowd.

His calm left him when he met the gaze of a new (to him) patron whose blue eyes appraised Barry as if reading his mind. That look and the man’s stance, hands rested lazily on the pool table, felt like a strange test Barry wasn’t sure he was passing.

The man’s stare made Barry not quite uneasy, just fidgety in a way he’d never felt before... He didn’t know how to react, so he only raised his eyebrow, unafraid for some reason. The man certainly looked able to gut him if he so desired, and it should have made him wary, but it didn’t. Not in the least. He felt confident he could win whatever this interaction was, like he’d taken a shot of adrenaline.

The man knew it, probably saw it in Barry’s stance, or maybe in his expression. Either way, the man smirked at Barry. He said something to the man he’d come in with before strolling up to the bar.

Barry wasn’t intimidated, not even when the man sat in the seat directly in front of him.

“You’re new,” the man said.

“I am,” Barry confirmed. “What d’you want?”

“A whiskey”—he looked right into Barry’s eyes—“on ice.”

“Right away.” Barry turned and made the drink in front of him, pushing it forward with a nod. “Here you go.” 

“You’re _really_ new here, huh?” The man smirked while squinting his eyes. “The name’s Snart, newbie.” Barry couldn’t quite make sense of his tone, but it felt like a game. As if they were both in on a joke no one knew about but them. It was exhilarating.

“So, you’re a regular?”

“Gold star for you,” Snart replied, making Barry shake his head with a small smile. He was about to answer when his attention was stolen by the news on the TV. _Clyde Mardon, previously presumed dead, was seen robbing Central City’s bank earlier today._

“He’s alive?” Barry murmured, choked. “How…?” Hadn’t he died after the explosion of the particle accelerator? Iris wouldn’t have lied about something like that; he was Chyre’s killer!

“Allen, we’re closing in fifteen minutes!” Daniel screamed from the storage room, breaking Barry’s line of thought. He turned and nodded in response.

“You heard him,” he said to Snart, who got up and left the right amount on the counter.

“Till next time, Allen,” he replied smoothly before walking over to his partner and leaving. Barry could only watch him leave, entranced by the man.

He recovered and closed up with Daniel, taking his stuff and exiting through the backdoor. He only made it three steps outside before he heard someone call out his name. Looking up, he was met, flabbergasted, with the sight of a disgruntled Iris West. Was this for real? He helplessly wondered how to get out of this one.

“Barry, please, I haven’t seen you in days! I just got you back, and it feels like you never woke up!” she scolded vehemently, putting herself right in front of him.

“Yeah, sorry about that…” He scratched his neck and tried to side-step her, without success.

“What’s going on with you? Are you avoiding me?” She sounded hurt. Barry gripped his neck tighter. “Is it because of Eddie?” Iris asked in a small voice. He felt his heart jump out his chest. “I thought you said you were okay with it?” _No, I’m really not._ “You know why I want to keep it from Joe.”

“Yeah, I know, I told you, I don’t have any problems with it-”

“Then why?!” she interrupted. “You can’t do that to me! You’re my best friend!” He recoiled, hurt to the core. She tried to touch him, but he moved back again.

“My best friend!” Barry smiled bitterly. “Right! Of course!” He laughed shakily, and looked up to her. “That’s all I ever was to—”

“What are you saying?” It was her turn to recoil. 

“You know what I’m saying, right? You’ve always known,” he accused, shaking his head.

“You… No, it can’t be—” she started. “You— Is that why…” 

Barry felt the rage and bitterness rising slowly but surely. “I’m avoiding you like the plague?” He snickered scathingly. “Yes! That's it, Iris! I can't bear to even look at you anymore!” Iris opened her mouth, but he kept going. He had to say it, even if it was too late. He needed to in order to move on, maybe for the first time in his life. 

“It hurts! It hurts because you're with somebody else, going to be married, while I was there, all your life, loving you!” He spit the words like a curse, voice raised in desperation only to crack in the end. 

He’s met with silence. No matter how much he longed for her to notice him, she never did, and so, she's rendered speechless. Barry can't fault her for it, but it hurts so much. 

“I loved you before I even knew what the word ‘love’ meant, Iris. You were everything to me—everything. And...” He stuttered. “And it's unfair. It's unfair that the moment I'm about to tell you, I'm put in a coma and I wake up too late. It's not fair.” He looked up, eyes full of years of unshed tears, and met her despondent gaze. Even with the most shattered look he'd ever seen on her face, she looked like perfection incarnate, and it broke his heart. He felt as if his chest was compressing his lungs, and all of a sudden, he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, as if the air was stuck. That's when he knew; beautiful, kind, and devastatingly oblivious Iris—she was his air, and she was gone. He tried to speak, and had to try several times to not let out a heart-wrenching sob. 

“So please.” He breathed in again and croaked, emotions clamping down on his throat. “Please, let me get over you.”

“Barr...” Her eyes glistened.

“You didn't ask for my love; you didn't have to.” He stepped back. “And it's not fair to you, but I need time. I need to put myself together, be myself without you,” he said with emphasis. She had to understand what he meant, what it took to say those dreadful words. She had to know what she meant to him.

“No...” Her voice broke, and yet, it was still the most magnificent sound he had ever heard.

“I can't be sorry for loving you, but I'm sorry that I need so much time, because I always knew this was coming.” He tried to smile, but he felt tears cascading down his cheeks. “And I'm sorry for hurting you, but Iris, my life...” He wiped his face with a hand. “My life is out of control, and this—this is me doing something about it.” The echo of his words rang with a cruel finality.

“By closing your family and friends off?” she tried to push back, but they both knew it was in vain.

Shaking his head with a bittersweet smile, he said, “Loving you, Iris, was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” And he walked off into the night.

* * *

He managed to stop from crying, but he couldn’t stop feeling hollow. It made his hands shake and his face crumple, as he wandered into the night alone. He walked without a goal, looking desperately everywhere his eyes could see, demanding an answer of the world. Why?

“Why? Why couldn’t I have a normal life…” He whispered, shattered and wrenched. “If only Mom was alive…” Barry heaved a breath as hard as a sob.

His phone rang, and Cisco's name appeared on the screen. He answered without much heart and was more than surprised by Cisco’s vehement tone.

“You’re not the only one! You’re not the only metahuman, and we need your help! The police can’t do anything! Please!” 

_What is he talking about?_ “What are you saying? A metahuman is doing what exactly?” He had stopped from walking, at a crossroad yet again. 

“It’s a criminal, you must have seen him on the news, Clyde Mardon. He can control the weather!” 

_Joe! He must have gone after him!_

Barry had to help. It's not like the police could do anything. He had to be the hero. He thought of Oliver and Felicity. Now that he had powers, he had the right—the obligation—to do the same as them, to save people like he wished someone had done for him fifteen years ago in the fury of lightning. He would be the change. No one should have to fall victim to the machinations of others.

“What can I do?” he asked desperately. 

“Come to STAR Labs. Caitlin and I had an idea…” Barry hung up and ran the fastest he could to the Labs, appearing a couple of minutes later in front of them.

“What was that idea?” He asked, making them jump and turn.

* * *

While running, he couldn’t help feeling self-conscious, he wasn’t exactly pulling off the costume Cisco had made that was meant to fit like a second skin. His body was too lanky for the suit, even with his new and welcomed abs.

Either way, he came to a stop in front of the barn where Cisco had found traces of unusual meteorological activity. It had to be the right place; he remembered the case and Joe’s complaints. He recognized the squad car there and ran over to it before realizing the barn was being destroyed by a tornado from within. As he prepared himself to run in, the door flew open, and Joe and Eddie ran out. Or, more like, were thrown out, right onto the car.

If he vibrated his vocal cords he should be alright, right? With that thought in mind, he shouted, “Clyde Mardon! It’s time to stop!” and placed himself between them, protecting Joe and Eddie. No matter the resentment, he couldn’t let Eddie die. He had lost Iris to him because he was a coward, but he couldn’t bear seeing her devastated, so Eddie had to survive. Who knew? Maybe in another life, they could even have been friends. 

“You’re no god! You have no right to risk the lives of thousands in the city like this!” Barry screamed at Mardon. “Stop this, now!” He tried to sound as imposing and fearsome as he could, readying himself to run.

“And who are you? You can’t talk to me like that!” Mardon shouted over the powerful wind still swirling behind him. “You don’t know me!”

“I don’t need to know you to know what you’re doing is wrong!” He replied, screaming too, trying to be heard over the sound of the growing tornado. As he was about to lift his arm to cover his face, he saw Mardon take out a gun from his vest in slow motion, and Barry acted without thinking, throwing a punch that landed solidly in Mardon’s chest.

It made Mardon take multiple steps backwards, but it did nothing for his gun, now pointed at Barry. He couldn’t think clearly with the voices of Cisco and Caitlin frantically asking him questions he couldn’t understand in his earpiece. Instinct took over. Without hesitation, Barry swung his fist into the firearm, making it fall to the ground far away from them, before kicking Mardon in the stomach. “You are anything but a god, you have no right to decide who lives or dies!”

“Oh yeah?” said Mardon, one arm holding his stomach, the other controlling the tornado with hardly a movement. “Try outrunning that!” 

Caitlin asked a frantic question in his ear, but he didn’t register the words, too occupied watching the tornado rushing toward him at an alarming speed. _Joe and Eddy were behind him!_

“Caitlin!” he finally replied, “He’s sending the tornado to me! What can I do? Central is on its trajectory!”

There was only silence for a few precious seconds, before Cisco spoke abruptly, “What if you ran fast enough to stop the tornado? Like you went in the opposite direction as the wind and stopped the tornado?”

“And just how fast would I have to go?” Barry asked.

“Really fast, man! Like, super-speed-only-you-can-do fast!” Cisco answered immediately.

It made him snort, a small smile on his lips as he readied himself. “Let’s try that—-” he said before taking off as fast as he possibly could, only thinking of the thousands of lives he _had_ to save. 

Entering the tornado felt like jumping into a pile of razors, every gust of wind slashing his suit and skin. He cried out in pain and flailed, nearly tripping before steadying himself. “Caitlin! Please tell me it’s working! Cisco!” he yelled helplessly.

“It is! But you have to go faster or you’ll die from the shock of the ejection!” Cisco warned, making him try even harder, opposing the tornado with all his might and feeling it give little by little in a bloom of electricity.

In a last effort, he stopped it, violently thrown to the ground because of his speed. A powerful cracking sound echoed after impact, which he realized with shock was his arm bone snapping as he fell face-first to the ground.

“Barry! Barry! Do you hear us?” Caitlin screamed at him, worried out of her mind.

“I do! My arm—” He let out a pitiful sound of agony. “It’s broken, like _really_ broken!” Everything hurt. Barry knew he had to get moving, though, so he put himself on his hand and knees, looking up and expecting Mardon but not finding him anywhere in sight.

“What the hell was that thing!” He heard Joe scream from afar. _No, no, no, no, no— Move, stand up and get moving! Come on!_ he thought, managing to get on his feet, feeling as if he had been under the wheels of a bus. He was definitely going to feel this while running. And he did, but he made it to STAR Labs before collapsing.

* * *

The day after, he woke up to the scowling faces of Caitlin and Dr. Wells, to whom he and Caitlin explained what exactly had happened the night before. Wells seemed surprised Barry won and told him to be more careful. To all their surprise, Barry’s arm and other injuries had healed overnight, and he felt as good as new, if a bit sore.

Barry had, very fortunately, hours before his shift at the bar, having taken the entire night to fight and recover. What was less fortunate was Iris’s call informing him that Joe and Eddie’s were in the hospital. He had to go, obviously. He couldn’t refuse Iris anything, and he had seen them being thrown at a car before his fight. They couldn’t look as good as him, that’s for sure.

Without a plan or any ideas of what he should say, he went to them, skidding to a stop in a narrowed alley before entering the hospital and finding their room.

As soon as he entered, Joe stopped the conversation and asked Iris and Eddie to leave the room. Eddie was already on his feet, not having been roughed up enough to be bedridden.

“So, you told Iris, avoided us, and found yourself a job across the city in the worst part of town?” Joe started without preamble, tactless as always when angry and tired.

“It was about time I did, and I don’t see how my job affects you in any way. I don’t have to justify myself to you or tell you everywhere I go,” Barry replied acidly.

“Barry—” he raised his voice in warning, but Barry wasn’t having it.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, or anyone! It's my life! I'm an adult, and you may have 'raised' me," he sneered. "But that doesn't allow you to make any decisions for me! Not anymore!" He finished with a shout. _Not ever_ , he thought bitterly. Again, he felt his entire body shake with some kind of vibration. He could nearly feel it in his bones, his eyes lighting up with lightning.

"You never understood me! You never tried! You can't see anything but your opinion, as if your thoughts are the only truth in the world!" He raised his voice even more. "Guess what? It isn't! You aren't right! You never were!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. He breathed shakily, his entire form trembling from exertion. "I can't even look at you. I can't…”

“So this is about your murderous father again!” Joe shouted, “Fantastic!”

"I gave you proof after proof, and you never ever believed me. I asked for your trust, I needed it, but you—" He let out an anguished cry. "You could never be there for me!" He looked up, feeling the pain from all the worst moments of the last fifteen years. "If it wasn't for Iris, I would have never stayed even a week with you." He turned his head away; he hadn't meant to say that, but he kept going anyway. "You're a hypocrite. You never believed me, you played your part, but, deep down, no matter how much proof I laid in front of you, you thought I was insane!" He heaved a deep breath. "You still do.

"I know some of my anger is misplaced, but I can't help it, Joe," he pleaded. “It’s not right—” He choked on his tears. “But it’s how I feel.” His voice was low. He didn't want to be angry, but his rage pulsed in his veins. His pulse quickened impossibly. “You aren’t my father, Joe; you’re the one who took mine from me. And right now, I can’t forgive you for that.”

“He killed your mother,” Joe said, pained, and angry, so rightfully angry. Barry closed his eyes in resignation.

Joe couldn't ever see the world for what it was: gray, shades of gray, not black and white. Joe wouldn't ever be able to understand Barry. He wasn't wrong, but he would never be right. And Barry couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the idea of being subjected to Joe's rightful anger, not when Barry was right! Not when all he could see was the dead body of his mother… No. He wouldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t allow it.

“You never fucking knew anything.” He cursed for the first time in what felt like ages, guiltily thinking of his parents, who raised him better than that, better than this bitter man he had grown up to be. But now, his parents weren’t there, it was just Joe. He knew Joe. And he knew when Joe was about to hurt someone, so he stopped him by raising his voice yet again. “You don’t know what is right for me, or apparently for anyone.” It’s a low blow, but he feels uncomfortably raw, like a wire, his emotions the electricity fueling him to the core. 

Barry turned and stormed out of the room, without stopping even after bumping into Iris and Eddie.


End file.
